O, Happy Dagger
by Ennrian Iris
Summary: The famous line from Romeo and Juliet fits this so well. D/H gone bad... Herm thinks it over... Draco's in trouble... oh just read it for Gods' sake, it's too hard to summarize.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. The quote is an excerpt from _Romeo and Juliet_, a truly amazing play written by Sir William Shakespeare.

A/N: Hehe. I really liked writing this one. Please review when you're done. Tat twould make me ever so heppy. Hehe.

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O Happy Dagger

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"O happy dagger. This is thy sheath. There rust, and let me die."

*

"Please! Don't!" Hermione grimaced as Draco slammed her against the stone wall, his nails digging into her wrists as he held them up.

"What? You're afraid I'll hurt you?" Draco hissed hotly in his ex-girlfriend's ear.

"You already have," she sobbed. Her knees were shaking.

"But that was out of love," he whispered, flames of anger, hate, loneliness, frustration, and despair burning in his eyes. "_Before_ you broke up with me."

"And I did that because you're cruel!"

"Not to _you_, bitch," he snarled, but then his voice softened. "I loved you. I _still_ love you."

"You hate my friends. _They_ hated _me _when I dated you," tears trickled down her reddened cheeks.

"Then they don't love about you. The only love your mind."

"No, Draco, they hated me for my own good."

"How can hatred be good?" Draco asked. "For the past week I've longed for your newfound hatred of me to cease."

"Ask yourself, Draco," Hermione said solemnly. "For you are the one who hates so many."

Draco left his momentary kindness, and his eyes once again hardened in anger. He slapped Hermione. "How dare you use my words against me. Maybe my father was right. Maybe you are 'just a mudblood.'"

"And maybe Harry and Ron were right. Maybe you haven't changed. Only your mask," Hermione stopped crying. Draco threw her to the floor. Hermione refused to let him know the pain he had inflicted upon her.

"Well, if you thought you had even the slightest chance left for use to get back together, you've smoldered all the remaining evidence," she whispered bitterly, scrambling to her feet and storming off.

~*~

"Ah, the last day of school," Hermione sighed happily. "Two more hours and we'll be on the Hogwarts Express heading home." _Without Draco_, she added silently.

"I wish _I_ could be happy about that," Harry joked. "Dudley will have gotten some new 'toys' to play with. Like a stun gun…"

Ron and Hermione laughed.

"You can just threaten him with your 'amazing magical prowess'," Ron suggested, chuckling.

McGonagall was up at the front of the room grading final exams. Everyone had finished rather quickly (though not everyone had actually _tried_) so, acting very 'un-McGonagall-ish' McGonagall had let everyone talk.

"Whisper!" she barked. "There are other classrooms still taking tests!"

Ron and Harry rolled their eyes while Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Why don't you just put a spell on the room so nobody outside can hear us?" Seamus Finnigan asked smartly.

McGonagall glared at him and he sank down farther into his seat.

After another long hour and a half, the class was dismissed and everyone bounded out of the stuffy castle and onto the blossoming grounds. Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat at the edge of the lake watching the tiny silver fish dart through the crystalline water.

"Hello, Hermione."

The three friends lazily turned their heads to face Draco Malfoy.

"I have nothing to say to you," Hermione stated firmly, venom in her voice.

"Nor do I, Hermione, nor do I. Just a friend saying hello to another friend," he drawled. Hermione looked at him suspiciously.

"Search me; I have nothing to hide," he admitted, noticing her inquiring eyes. Harry and Ron were glaring at him hatefully, their teeth gritted.

"I am afraid if I stay longer Sarboy and Wheezer here would gladly bite my head off, so I will be going. Goodbye, Herm," and with that, Draco strolled off, catching up with Crabbe and Goyle.

"You can't call me Herm anymore!" Hermione yelled after him.

"What was _that_ about?" Harry and Ron questioned.

"Nothing," Hermione replied, rather quickly.

"It is now time to leave for the station!" Dumbledore's voice, magically magnified, echoed across the grounds.

They all got up, heading for the horseless carriages. Soon they would be on the Express heading home.

~*~

Draco's eyes searched the crowd of people as he stepped off the train.

"Master! Master Malfoy!" their new house elf, Blinky, squealed, straining to take Draco's heavy luggage.

"Fool, do you really think you can carry this? Get me a cart!" he spat at the quivering elf.

"Yessir, yessir, sorry, sir," the elf apologized profusely as he trotted off to fetch a luggage trolley.

"If Mother and Father just sent _that_ pitiful thing, I shall be quite—"

"Draco! Draco, honey!" came Narcissa's shrill voice.

"Mother, _how_ many times have I told you not to call me _honey_?" Draco scolded.

"Sorry, hon—er, Draco."

"Excuse me, miss? Have you seen a boy with bright blue-dyed hair?" a little girl around eight asked.

"Are you talking to _me_? How should I care?" Narcissa said coldly. "Anyone seeking a boy with _blue_ hair obviously has _no _taste." She stuck her nose in the air, and the little girl ran off, close to tears.

"Hmph," Narcissa and her son chorused.

"Where's Father?" Draco asked.

"He's at home. He needs to talk to you about something. He is very frustrated with you."

"Why?"

Either Narcissa truly did not hear her son, or she chose not to. "Come. The limousine is waiting."  
Without a word, he walked out of the station with his mother, into the limousine. Blinky hopped into the trunk just as the engine started.

"Driver? My wand, please," Narcissa asked.

It floated towards her and she snatched it out of the air.

"_Screenus da'in'e_," she said, and a white canvas appeared, luminated magically. "Get me Lucius."

She waited a few secinds and Lucius' face appeared on the canvas.

"Hello, Narcissa," he greeted, his voice cold as ice and his eyes flashing with anger.

"We are on our way back and I informed our son that you needed to speak with him," Narcissa put forward.

"Yes, I do," his face to Draco, "You must see me immediately once you arrive at our manor, boy. I will be waiting in the study." The canvas disappeared.

"Mother? Why is he so furious?" Draco asked, totally oblivious.

"You'll see," Narcissa replied bluntly.

~*~

Hermione sat in the back seat of her parents' BMW, watching the other cars pass by.

"Mum?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you know anything about a neighborhood called Richwillow Court? Like where it's located?" Hermione asked.

"Hmm… yes, I believe so. I'm pretty sure that it's only about fifteen minutes from our house by car. It's that wealthy area a little past our church."

"Oh! Okay, thanks," she said, then though, _Draco _is_ really rich!_

"Why, honey?" her father asked, but kept his eyes on the road.

"Oh, a friend mentioned it, that's all," she lied. Hermione pulled a two-week-old scrap of parchment out of her pocket. On it '128 CoinOak Circle, in Richwillow Court' was scribbled.

"Uh, Mum, Dad?"

"Yes?" her parents answered in unison.

"Are you going to need the other car?"

"No, dear, you can take it when we get home. Just unpack first, though," her mother told her.

"Okay, sure," Hermione nodded. "I'll refill the tank, too."

~*~

"Father?" Draco called, dumping his luggage by the door.

"In my office," came a gruff voice.

Draco walked through the thick oak door to find his father at his large stone desk. The back of Lucius' chair faced Draco, hiding the very angry man.

"You wanted to speak to me sir?" Draco's father always forced what he called 'good manners' upon Draco. Draco, though, didn't seem to find 'sir' a very loving word.

"Sit."

Draco did as he was told.

"I have recently heard something quite outrageous from a colleague, Draco, about you."

"Like what, Father?"

"About a witch your age, son. That you have been… _associated_ with. A mudblood actually. Quite an out of date name… from around the 40's. Hate it if you ask me."

Draco sat still as a statue; silent and staring at the back of his father's chair. Lucius Malfoy spun around to face his son.

"Oh, Draco, tsk tsk. It's best to admit it," Lucius said, uncomfortably sarcastic.

"There are many female mudbloods in my classes, associated with only as classmates. Let's see… names that fit your description are Irma and Eleanor," Draco offered, his voice almost mechanical.

"Damnit, Draco! Don't get smart with me!" Mr. Malfoy leaned forward on his arms into Draco's face. He spat between his eyes, but Draco refused all physical reactions. "You've been dating one, you ungrateful ass! Hermione Granger!"

Draco remained silent for a long moment, then finally spoke. "So?"

"How dare you question me, boy! You _know_ my rules! Mudbloods are filth! You are dirtying our family's reputation!"

"Have you ever care about your _family_ and not your family's _reputation_?" Draco asked calmly.

"What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me."

Lucius' nostrils flared and his eyes became slits as he glared maliciously at his son.

"You God damn better get up to your room before I let my words accidentally slip into Unforgivables…"

Draco got up from his seat and left, but not without flipping off his ferocious father.

Only seconds after Draco left, Narcissa entered the room. "Do you need something cool to drink, dear?" she asked, her eyes wandering nervously.

"No. I'm going to the bedroom to rest," he sighed angrily, then added, "Do _not_ wake me." He left.

~*~

Narcissa fidgeted uneasily in a chair. She was tired too, but she didn't dare interrupt her husband in such an angry mood.

She was about to get a margarita when the doorbell rang.

_Hmm… that's odd…_ she thought as she opened the door.

"_Who _are_ you_?" Narcissa asked the bushy-haired girl in front of her.

The teenaged witch bit her lip, shifted nervously, then spoke. "I… am a friend of your son."

"I see. What is this about?" Narcissa interrogated.

"Well, I don't think I gave Draco enough of a chance to voice his opinion last time we talked… I'd like to give him _another_ chance," she explained, her brown eyes hopeful.

Narcissa considered this then nodded stiffly. "All right, you may see him, but don't be long. He's in the room at the end of the hall upstairs hat says 'Go Away' on the door. Be quiet too. His father is resting and he's testy when he's disturbed," Narcissa stepped to the side and let Hermione in.

~*~

Draco sat in the darkness of his room. The only light came from a tiny candle that lit only the corner it was in. Draco was settled next to it, sharpening his collection of knives as he talked to himself.

"Damn man… never gives a shit for his family. Only cares to have a good reputation. Doesn't care if I'm in love… me, his only child… he just cares that she's a mudblood. And that I'm 'doing something horrible' by being in love with 'her kind'. I don't see why the jackass has such God damn problems. I _hate_ him."

Draco picked up the next knife, his favorite, the one he had gotten Hermione's name engraved on. He began sharpening it.

"If he tries to say one damn word to me for the next week… I swear…"

He tilted the knife so that candlelight reflected off the glittering, steel blade. There was a mad glint in his eye.

Someone knocked on the door.

"That bastard!" Draco cursed. "How dare he disturb me when I am in my room!"

The person opened the door after receiving no reply.

In one swift act of insanity, Draco hurled the blade in the direction of the intruder.

"I warned you, Father! I warned you of my hatred!" he screeched.

And as the knife sliced through flesh, there was the strangled cry of a woman.

A pang of horror shot through Draco as realization washed over him that the person he had attacked was not his father. With a jerky wave of his wand, the room lit up. Draco rushed up to the limp form that lay by the door.

Terrified, he recognized her as Hermione. His blade was buried deep in her chest. She had died immediately. Draco held his love's frail body, sobbing.

"I'm a murderer… I killed her…" her cradled her in his arms as he gently pulled out the blade. His stomach lurched and his tears came faster as her fresh blood dripped onto his hands. He cleaned her wound up with a mending spell so she didn't have to be buried with the gash.

"Damn myself!" he screamed, his voice hysterical with sorrowful insanity. "I've killed my last love… and my chances to be with her in Heaven. I am a murderer, I will go to Hell."

Draco turned the bloody dagger in his hands, making them red.

"If I'm going to Hell already," he choked through tears, "suicide can't hurt."

Staring at the dagger with his victim's name on it, he decided silently on death. He bent down and kissed Hermione's still-warm lips.

"Good-bye, love," he looked back at the dagger. "Hello, Lucifer."

And he drove the dagger through his aching heart.

~*~


End file.
